


Loss

by everylosttouch



Series: Canon SH fics [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst, Coda, Episode: s03e10 Erchomai, Introspection, M/M, Mentions of War, Post-Episode: s03e10 Erchomai, he's there but doesn't say anything, jace herondale (mentioned) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 09:23:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14734314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everylosttouch/pseuds/everylosttouch
Summary: Without his magic, Magnus feels like a part of him is missing, a part of him that may never return.





	Loss

It’s an empty feeling.

A disgusting, empty feeling that eats away at him. He feels robbed, like a part of him has been taken away. _That’s because it was,_ he thinks silently to himself. He handed it over, desperate to fix the problems that had spiraled out of control. His father took advantage of his desperation, his need to help and fix and—

And look where it brought him.

He looks down to his fingers, across the black painted nails that reflect nothing, void of any light. He’s a shell of the man he used to be. His bones feel colder and frail; he can feel time press against his golden skin. He can suddenly feel this pain, this sickness, this… _aging._

Even the word itself has his stomach lurching.

He shouldn’t be so caught up about it. It’s age. It affects everyone, even Shadowhunters. He should celebrate, should revel in the fact that he finally gets to live in the moment, that he finally can _live with Alexander_ and not have to worry about the fact that he’d have to outlive another lover.

But he can’t. He can’t shake this shattering feeling that cracks away at his heart, that breaks down his bones and suffocates the air in his lungs.

It’s like he’s suddenly left immobile, like he’s incapable of using a part of himself that he’s had for so long. It reminds him of old friends and lovers from centuries before, those who had their disabilities, those who had lost limbs and appendages to war, to strife.

He remembers their struggles, the vat of despair that overthrew them when they realized _it was really gone._ He remembers his friends from the wars, who’d come home with no legs, confined to a wheelchair for the rest of eternity. He remembers their vacant, longing stairs as others walked around dancing and smiling. He felt for them then, wishing there was something, _anything_ he could do to ease the pain.

And now here he is, in that exact position. Robbed of his magic, the part of him that made him love life, love the wonder and passion that it once held. It’s now empty and cold, isolating him to a life of nothingness. No magic, no wonder.

No hope.

He looks up from his lap, from where he’s lain at Alec’s bedside for what seems like years. His boyfriend lies silently on the bed, with gentle hums of breath passing through his nostrils. He lies face up, his bandaged chest rising and falling steadily thanks to Catarina’s magic.

_Catarina’s magic,_ he dwells.

_She_ saved Alec. _She_ pulled the arrow out, healing him with a bend of her wrist and a flair of her fingers. _She_ bandaged him up and encouraged him to rest.

_She_ did that.

Not him.

He shouldn’t feel burning jealousy. He shouldn’t. Catarina was just doing her job, what he had called her to do because _he couldn’t._

He was useless.

_If I am without my magic, what use am I?_ He thinks sullenly as his eyes trail to the bandages on Alec’s chest. He remembers seeing Jace pushing the head of the arrow into the flesh, the pained gasps and cracks of Alec’s voice echoing in the alleyway. He remembers the blood seeping from the wound, the overwhelming feeling that _Alec was going to die._

He remembers rushing to Alec’s side, holding him close and wishing, _praying_ that he’d be okay. He remembers quite clearly trying to heal Alec. He moved his fingers, snapping them to call upon his magic.

But it didn’t come.

And that was the tidal wave of realization that led him here. To this desperate, despicable place inside of him. To this cavern of sadness, guilt, and disdain that ate away at his heart. To the anger, the blame, the jealousy that eats away at his bones.

It drowns him, surrounds him in a thick, suffocating presence of mind he can’t escape. He tries—oh he tries—to find some positive note, some beacon of light that can show him the happiness that waits in mortality. But there isn’t one bright enough not to be snuffed out by the darkness, the sadness coating his heart and mind.

His magic is gone.

No more magic, no more passion and wonder.

No more hope.

**Author's Note:**

> come visit me on tumblr at [biconicmagnusbane!](https://biconicmagnusbane.tumblr.com/)


End file.
